Destinations: Our New Beginning
by Steadfast As The Stars
Summary: The first of several sweet stories that will chronicle the Grissom family and the places they go. Rating may change to M in later chapters. I suck @ summaries....
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The first in a series of stories. May or may not follow original plot/story/timeline.

A friend challenged me to use several random words, names or phrases - these include Dolly Parton, UCLA, basil…. Hopefully, she will be pleased with their usage.

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

I glance around at the stacks of boxes that clutter what will be the family room. Our lives, neatly packed away into undescript brown containers. At some point, I'll have to begin unpacking - sorting, folding and putting away these things. But not right now. I'm content to sit, sprawled out on the couch watching some sappy movie eating radishes dipped in ketchup.

I hear keys jostling just outside the front door, knowing that Gil has returned. He manages to make his way through the door without droppingany packages. I manage to pull myself off of the couch and help him with the smaller bags of groceries.

"Gil, you think that we should see if the boys could come and help us get the furniture moved and maybe some painting done? And I'm sure that Catherine would love to come visit - maybe we could talk her into helping us finish the nursery?"

I'm rummaging through a grocery bag looking for something to curb a craving that radishes couldn't. The corners of his lips turn up in a sly grin before he hands me a jar of garlic stuffed olives.

"Sara, we would have had to start on the nursery, if you want Cath to help finish it…."

I shake my head,more concerned with trying to open the lid on my grocery prize. After several minutes of trying, I place the jar into his outstretched hand. A quick second later, I'm enjoying the salty treat.

"I can call them if you want. See if they could maybe come for the weekend. I'm sure that I can entice the boys with tickets on the 50 yard line." he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

I walk into the kitchen looking for a fork to delve deeper into the olive jar, but can still hear the conversation. From this end of it, it seems like confirmation of house guests for the weekend.

"Nick and Greg are both coming this weekend. The mention of football tickets swayed them away from some concert coming to Mandalay Bay. Catherine said she would be coming the next weekend - Lindsay is coming in from UCLA for fall break. I think that we can get most of the work done with the boys here. We'll leave the decorating for the women…. I don't think that Nick would want to spend his days looking at lace, plaids and polka dots in various shades of pink."

I laugh at the thought of Nick perusing aisle after aisle of nursery décor before joking "Nick might not want to, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Greg wouldn't mind."

Gil just shakes his head, knowing that it is quite possible. The rest of the day is spent writing up to do lists, relaxing on the couch and watching Hank run around the back yard. After watching the 11 o'clock news, we crawl into bed content to lay wrapped up in each other talking about whatever crosses our minds.

"Gil, I'm glad we moved here - you know, away from Vegas - the lights, the raucousness… the past. It's like we've started over here and I guess in some ways we have. "

He nods in agreement, pulling me a little closer to him.

"Good Night, honey. I love you." I try my best to stifle a yawn, but am unsuccessful.

"Night Sara. I love you. And I love you, ladybug." he says quietly into the darkness, as his hand gently rubs across the swell of my stomach.

I snuggle closer against him as my eyelids begin to droop. His deep, even breathing while his fingers idly rub my arms, is an invitation to drift off into a peaceful sleep. I'm not sure what woke me first; the empty, cold spot in the bed or the sweet aroma of something baking. Either way, I was awake and desperately needing the bathroom. I shuffle towards the bathroom, taking a quick glance in the mirror before using the toilet. I look like I've swallowed a basketball - I feel like I've swallowed a basketball. I debate on changing out of pajamas before breakfast, but decide that the sweet, sticky pastries don't care if I have on pajamas or not - and I know Gil could care less. Once I make it into the kitchen, I am pleased to find a stack of pancakes, my favorite veggie bacon and lots of fresh fruit. Gil looks up from stirring a saucepan on the stove and my smile sends my approval.

"Gil, you didn't have to make such a big breakfast. I could've eaten oatmeal."

I'm looking for the maple syrup before I sit down, not on the table, not in the pantry - I can't seem to find it anywhere.

"Griss, do you know where the syrup is?"

A reluctant smile begins to turn up the corners of his mouth, "About the syrup - we don't seem to have any. And I didn't realize it until I had already started making pancakes. So, I'm making homemade berry compote for the pancakes. There were all sorts of them in the fridge; raspberries, blackberries, blueberries - I didn't use the cranberries though"

I glance over his shoulder, into the saucepan - I'm thinking this is going to be better than any maple syrup. Taking a seat at the table, I attempt to wait patiently for the chef to finish his creation. Several long minutes later, my pancakes are covered in warm berry bliss. The first bite is pure perfection - warm, fluffy buttermilk pancakes topped with the best sauce I have ever eaten. I find myself scraping the plate with the fork, long after the rest of the food is gone. Gil's soft chuckle brings me out of my berry syrup induced fog.

"Sara, I can make more - anytime you want."

My eyes dart up to meet his, "Anytime? Don't say it if you don't mean it!" I tease.

We both laugh as he clears the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. We linger in the kitchen, working a crossword puzzle in tandem. 43 Across - Jolene Singer: DOLLY PARTON, 37 Down - Garden Herb: BASIL. Leaning in, he places a kiss to my forehead before asking,

"What would you like to do today? Or maybe I should say, what do you want to supervise me doing today?"

Arching my brows in playful displeasure, "WE need to see about getting some of these boxes unpacked- I'd hate to think that Nick and Greg would have to end up doing this when they visit. And I'm not sure how much longer we've got before Miss Charlotte arrives" I reply, patting my stomach.

So, that's how we spend the day - unpacking boxes, arranging and rearranging what furniture has already been delivered, and making lists of things to do around the house. We take our time, sorting though books - Gil pauses to read a favorite sonnet as I page through a photo album remembering our times in Costa Rica, California and Las Vegas. Lunch is spent glancing at a different album, one that contains mostly childhood photos of Gil, with a handful of mine scattered throughout. We manage to sort through all of the boxes stacked in the family room before dinner, leaving us feeling quite accomplished, if a bit exhausted. The rest of the evening is quite uneventful; dinner is delivered from a local vegetarian tapas restaurant, we drew a warm bubble bath and soak together before curling up in bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Several days later….

I faintly remember Gil kissing my forehead before he left this morning. I attempt to roll over and out of bed, before resorting to scooting to the edge and letting my feet slide off the bed and onto the floor. I pad down the hall and into the bathroom, stripping clothes off and turning on the shower. I silently curse that I haven't brought my clothes into the bathroom. Oh well, I'll get them after my shower.

The warm water beads over my skin and my hands come to rest on the rise of my stomach. I can't believe that it has been almost 9 months, 36 weeks to be exact. I grab a towel, laughing as I see how much is left uncovered in the mirror. Just as I open the door, I hear noises downstairs. I immediately remember that Gil had taken today off to meet Greg and Nick at the airport.

I'm quickly walking back into the bedroom as I can hear Gil and the boys coming upstairs on a grand tour of the house. I manage to close the bedroom door just as they stop into the first guestroom.

"Boys, you all can fight over who's sleeping in here and who gets to sleep downstairs on the sofa."

"Best two out of three on rock, paper, scissors, Nick?"

Clearly, Greg hasn't lost his boyish charm and ways. The guys stop into the nursery next, talking about the few things that needed to be done before it could be considered finished. Just as I am pulling on an almost too small pair of pants, there is a quiet knock at the door.

"Sara, is it ok to open the door? The boys are here."

I make several steps to the door and turn the knob, opening the door into the master suite. Greg and Nick both step forward, arms outstretched and reaching for me. I embrace the both of them, kissing them on the cheek.

"Thank you both for coming. There's not a lot of work to do, but definitely more than Gil could do by himself."

"Awww, it's nothing Sara. It's actually kind of nice to get away for a while. And those Vols tickets didn't do anything but sweeten the deal." Greg replies.

The boys get a grand tour of the master suite, the room that sealed the deal on this house.

Gil and I had always wanted an old farmhouse. Most of the ones that we looked at needed far more work than we were willing to do. This house was different. The entire house had been remodeled and the previous owner had spent a great deal of time and money on it. The kitchen was a chef's dream - including a brick oven. The selling point for us had been the master suite. Almost three quarters of the upstairs was transformed into a sprawling bedroom and bath. A tub, large enough for Gil and I both to comfortably soak in, a river rock lined shower, a closet as big as my first studio apartment - all those things were great. The bedroom was perfect. The huge windows offered a view of the lake and on warm nights, we could open them and listen to the chorus of frogs and crickets. My favorite part of the bedroom was the small sitting area off of the bathroom - the walls were nothing but bookshelves, which we had filled with favorite books as soon as we moved in.

The four of us walked downstairs and into the kitchen, taking seats at the table. Conversation was still easy between us. Nick talked of the promotion he had received, Greg talked of finally being taken seriously in the lab. We all laughed when the story of Hodges proposal to Wendy came up.

"And he was so nervous that he dropped the ring and we all spent the next half hour trying to find the ring."

"Should we get started on moving furniture or is there something else that we need to do?" asks Nick.

And with that, the boys are standing up from the table and following Gil towards the garage. I shuffle close behind, eager to get things in place. The rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon is spent moving furniture. The boys insist on giving us some time to rest afterwards, deciding to walk and find "a cool lunch spot with some ladies." We enjoy a quiet lunch on the sun porch, talking and laughing about the two over-grown boys. Later in the afternoon, the boys come strolling back in and we spend the rest of the day enjoying each other's company. We talk about the lab, our shotgun wedding, and Gil's new job.

"So, do you teach at the university or just work at the Body Farm, Grissom?"

"Well, I'm a guest lecturer for a class on Forensic Entomology this semester. Most of the work is done at the Body Farm. It's definitely something new and I'm enjoying it. I'm not going to teach anything next semester - take some time off to spend with Sara and the baby."

Gil cooks an early dinner and we settle in for the night. Greg pulls out a deck of cards, challenging us to several hands of poker. I have to smile and wonder if he enjoys getting beat so handily or maybe he thinks his luck will change. After winning all but one of the hands, I'm feeling tired and uncomfortable from Charlotte's constant kicking.

"I think I'm going to call it a night - maybe you boys will be up for another whippin' tomorrow after the game?"

I make my way up the stairs and look for pajamas. Unable to find ones that aren't so tight, I strip down to only my underwear and crawl in the bed. The only person coming into this room tonight has seen me in far less, so I'm unconcerned at my lack of modesty.

I drift off into a peaceful slumber and don't notice when Gil manages to crawl into bed. I'm only awakened by the warmth of his hand on my stomach. I cuddle closer to his body and sleep quickly comes.

Sometime in the early morning, before the sun dances through the windows, I'm awakened by a powerful sensation in my stomach. I try stretching and moving, hoping to position myself in a way that would cause this feeling to subside - quickly. Unable to find comfort, I carefully slip out of bed and into the bathroom, pausing to steady myself at the sink. I'm nearly doubling over in pain, holding my breath hoping the pain will go away. Gil appears at the doorway, looking concerned.

"Sar, is everything okay? What do you need me to do?"

I'm fighting back tears, "I'm not sure - I think I'm having contractions."

He steps into the bathroom, wrapping me in his arms and lowering us both to the cold, tile floor. He massages my back, easing some of the tension. His hands spread across my stomach and he can feel the contractions.

"I think we should go to the hospital, Sara."

He stands up and extends his hand to me, helping me up off of the floor. Carefully, he guides me into a recliner and I wait for him to gather the bag that's been packed by the bed for months. We walk down the stairs and are getting ready to leave when I remember that Nick and Greg are here.

"Just leave a note and the keys to your car."

Gil manages to scrawl a quick note and takes the keys out of his pocket, placing them on the table before helping me out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - I'm hoping that everyone is enjoying the story. Leave a review and I might be inclined to write a little faster…

Gil managed to maneuver through downtown Knoxville like a lifelong resident of this college town. We arrive at the hospital where a volunteer helps me into a wheelchair. This is the epitome of southern hospitality. If I hadn't been in such pain, I would have offered much more than the thank you I was able to say through gritted teeth.

Gil holds my hand as we are wheeled into the Emergency department. I have to admit that I am a little scared, hospitals have always made me nervous. Thankfully, everyone here is very courteous and helpful, which does put me at ease. Soon after arriving, I am checked in and wheeled to the Family Birthing Center on the fourth floor - room 432.

A nurse is waiting in the room for me, ready to take vital signs and get papers signed. Her name is Beth and she has a thick southern accent. She explains all sorts things, I'm hoping Gil is paying attention because I am not. She offers me a hospital gown, which I kindly refuse - pointing to the bag that Gil has slung over his shoulder.

"Well Mrs. Grissom, if you don't mind to change into whatever you feel most comfy in and get settled in this bed, I'll come back in here and check on you to see how you are progressing. If y'all need anything before I come back, just push this button and I'll come running." she explains as she's backing into the hallway and closing the door.

Gil helps me stand from the wheelchair and I manage to toe off my shoes as he is getting my gown from the bag. I pull it on over my head and crawl into the bed, which by the way is far more cozy than it looked. I'm guessing that once the end of the bed is dropped down and stirrups are pulled up, the coziness of the bed will be long gone - but for now, it's pretty inviting.

Gil is still unpacking the bag - placing a small iPod and docking station near the bed, bottles of water, a couple of puzzle books, a small blanket that his mother had knitted for Charlotte - when Beth returns.

"Mrs. Grissom, ""Sara is just fine, Mrs. Grissom sounds so old -"

"Sara, what was your original due date? Do you know if your water has broken?"

"My original due date was October 10. I'm pretty sure that my water hasn't broken - I haven't felt anything like what they described in the prenatal classes, anyway."

"Well, I guess we should check you and see how far along you are. Once we know that, we can call the doctor and let her know."

I watch as she washes her hands and pulls a pair of gloves on. Explaining what she's doing, she advises me that I may feel pressure or a little bit of discomfort. I'm thankful that she's so kind. She's quick to finish and describes my progress.

"Sara, you've made quite a bit of progress on your own. You're about 7 centimeters dilated and close to 90% effaced. I don't think that your water has broken yet, but we'll give you to 9 centimeters before we do anything about it. Your chart states that you don't want an epidural, but if you change your mind in the next little bit, let me know. I'll go ahead and get your IV line started and get you hooked up to the monitors."

Gil holds my hand as Beth is starting my IV line. I feel the tiniest prick when she inserts the needle, but other than that - nothing. She straps a monitor across my stomach and turns on a machine to record my contractions. Before leaving, she reminds us to push the button if we need anything.

The sun is streaming in through the curtains on this beautiful Saturday morning in September. The next several hours are spent relaxing in bed, listening to music, talking with Gil and trying to get some sleep. Beth comes in once or twice to check the monitors, but other than that we are left in peace and privacy.

Sometime late in the morning, I ask to get out of the bed and use the restroom. Beth and Gil help me out of the bed, but before I can make it to the bathroom, my water breaks. I'm horrified that we are all standing here in the middle of fluid that is gushing out of my body. I'm practically sobbing my apologies, to which Beth is explaining that it's perfectly natural and no need for apologies. Gil just hugs me a little tighter, which makes everything seem okay. My once urgent need to use the bathroom has passed and I am content to change gowns and get back into bed.

Beth explains that since my water has broken I will begin progressing more rapidly. I should be near nine centimeters now and totally effaced. She checks and confirms that I have dilated completely to ten centimeters and explains that I should begin to have the urge to push. Pushing the nurse's call button, she asks that Dr. Holt be paged to room 432.

There is quite the hustle in the room over the next several minutes and Gil stays by my side to keep me calm. Dr. Holt arrives and begins helping Beth set my bed up for delivery. While we are waiting, Gil gets a text message from Nick asking if there is anything they could do for us. He quickly sends a response and then returns his total attention to me.

At 11:49am after only 20 minutes of hard labor and pushing, Charlotte Grace Grissom makes her entrance into the world.

She is beautiful and to say that it was love at first sight would be an understatement. A headful of dark curly hair frames her perfect face. Her eyes are dark blue and she has the most gorgeous long eyelashes. A small dimple in her chin, a perfect replica of the one her father has. She looks at us, taking everything in as I hold her close to my breast. I know in this moment, that this is what love looks like. A tangible glimpse at what our love created.

A nurse comes to clean her and take all of her vitals. She whimpers as she is being measured, but quiets quickly once she is resting against my skin again.

"How much does she weigh? How long is she?" Gil asks.

"She weighs 6lbs 2 oz and is 20 ¼ inches long. Everything looks wonderful, especially since she's about three and a half weeks early. She is beautiful. Congratulations!"

After Dr. Holt examines me one last time, she and Beth give us some time to bond with Charlotte.

Gil leans down, placing the most tender kiss onto my lips as he slides onto the side of the bed. We spend the next hour or so discovering everything we can about our baby; the softness of her skin, the way her hair curls into perfect ringlets, her long fingers and toes, the soft scent of our baby. Her tiny eyelids begin to flutter and a yawn causes her mouth to form a perfect little 'o' and she begins to drift off to sleep in my arms. I'm content to lay back against the bed and hold her as she sleeps and Gil watches both of us in complete adoration.


	4. Chapter 4

Early in the afternoon, Nick and Greg came to visit and meet Charlotte. It was entertaining to watch these two coo and coddle over her. They each took turns holding her, singing softly and telling her why they would be her favorite uncles. They left, insisting they would deliver dinner tonight and help us get things ready to come home tomorrow.

I loved watching Gil with Charlotte. He was at ease holding her, sitting in the rocking chair telling her how much she was loved. She would grasp his finger with her tiny hand, look intently at him as if she understood everything he was telling her. When she became fussy, he would rub her back and she would settle down. He was already the perfect father.

At one point, she began to whimper and nothing he could do would calm her. I reached for her and took her into my arms, settling her near my breast. We rocked, as best we could in the bed. I laid back against the bed, cradling her close and she began to root against me. A quiet laugh was shared between Gil and I when we realized she was hungry. It was a little challenging at first, but she quickly latched on and all was well in the world, as far as we were concerned. There was nothing sweeter than seeing her first milk drunk smile, eyes closed in satisfaction.

The rest of the afternoon is quiet, allowing us all to get a little rest. Our nurse, Beth comes in to help us give Charlotte her first bath. I watch mostly, Gil holds her so gently, taking great care to every detail of a first bath. Beth takes pictures of this, and I'm tearfully thanking her for capturing these first moments.

A knock at the door means the arrival of dinner. And while I thought that the boys would just go to a restaurant near by, they arrive with plastic containers that we had just unpacked. After a small quarrel over who was going to hold Charlotte while we ate (Greg won this one, claiming more experience), we were very surprised to find homemade vegetable lasagna and garlic bread, along with a spread of store bought desserts.

"Boys, thank you so much. And while I don't doubt your culinary abilities - I know that you all didn't cook this by yourselves - in our kitchen." I tease, between bites.

And the two boys stare at each other, looking like the cat that got the canary.

The door opens and in walks Catherine Willows and her daughter Lindsey

After warm greetings, Catherine gently steals Charlotte away from Greg.

"Oh, you are your mother made over. Those curls - I'm betting those eyes won't stay blue for long. But you've got your daddy's chin….at least it's a cute chin. Sara, Gil - she's perfect. Almost makes me wish for another one - ALMOST…."

"Catherine, how in the world did you get here on such short notice - and what about the lab?" Gil asks.

She just smiles, shaking her head - not willing to give any answers.

"And Lindsey, weren't you supposed to be on fall break?"

"Well Uncle Gil, I am on fall break - but to miss the chance to see Charlotte - and the boys mentioned something about football tickets…"

"Oh about those tickets, Nick, Lindsey and I were just getting ready to go to the game. We'll stop back by after the game."

Greg leans in kissing Charlotte on the top of her head, as do Nick and Lindsey. Catherine sinks into the recliner by the window intent on staying for a while. As the trio leaves the room, she begins telling of last minute plans to get here.

"I always knew that being Sam Braun's daughter would have it's advantages. One of those just happens to be access to a plane and pilot. Nick called when he and Greg arrived, betting me that Charlotte was coming before next weekend. I waited for Lindsey to get home and pack a few things to come here. We got in late Friday night - and spent all day yesterday…"

Her voice begins trailing off and I can see a hint of worry in her face - like she isn't telling everything.

"You spent all day yesterday, doing what? Catching up on sleep?" I ask.

"Not exactly. Lindsey and I spent all day yesterday finishing the nursery. I hope you won't be angry. I just knew that Gil had said it needed to be finished. We just followed along with things you had already done or bought. Well, maybe we did buy just a FEW extra things."

The silence in the room is humorous. Gil looks at me and back at Catherine. Catherine looks at us both, trying hard to suppress a smile, maybe even a laugh. The hush is too much and I can't help but laugh. There was no reason to make her sweat it out, I was thankful and intended to tell her so.

"Catherine - thank you so much. I didn't know how in the world I was going to finish the nursery. Especially with Gil needing to work on some lecture material and some publisher's deadlines. And then Charlotte decided to come a little sooner than expected. Poor baby was going to go home to a half finished nursery."

My grateful thank you is met with laughter. Finally, after several moments - Catherine is able to accept my thanks, but not before adding,

"You haven't even seen it yet."

"I'm sure that it's beautiful. Between you and Lindsey, there's not a doubt in my mind that it's fit for a princess."

Gil nods in agreement. Charlotte begins to stir prompting Catherine to cuddle her close and rock her gently. Unfortunately, the attempt is futile and soon she is handing her to me - as if I knew what to do with a newborn that was threatening a tantrum. The quivering of her tiny chin as her mouth turned into a perfect pout was adorable. Thankfully, instinct took over and I was able to soothe her enough to avoid tears.

I hadn't realized it was so late until the door opened and the boys and Lindsey came in the room. They were excited to tell us that the tickets were the best seats at Neyland Stadium and the game was a nail biter but the Vols had managed to win by a field goal. The five of us talked until the wee hours of the morning, appreciating the coffee that Greg had brought back from a small coffeehouse near campus.

"Greg, I just want you to know - this is the best coffee that I have had in nine months."

I grinned as I swallowed the last of the dark liquid in my cup. It had been nine months since I had anything with caffeine and I'm sure I could feel it coursing through my veins.

"Sara, that's the only coffee you've had in nine months - you would probably have drank the horrible stuff that they serve here." Gil jokes.

Sometime before my breakfast tray arrives, the gang had left and Gil had snuggled into the hospital bed with me, his arm wrapped protectively around the both of us. Charlotte was sleeping soundly against my chest when I woke, so I was content to lay there gazing at our new addition.


	5. Chapter 5

Sunday morning brought a visit from Dr. Strouth - the pediatrician, and Dr. Holt. Thankfully, the examinations were quick but thorough, and we were discharged before lunchtime. Before we could get to the car, Nick and Greg had both came to help out. Gil loaded them down with flowers, the diaper bag and the overnight bag we had brought. My nurse, Beth rolled me through the halls in a wheelchair, much to my complaints - I was assured it was hospital policy. This left Gil to carry Charlotte - and he did, proudly. I could hear him cooing to her as we went through the halls and came to the hospital exit.

Before getting settled in the car, Nick lets us know that Catherine was making lunch when they left. The drive home is quick and Charlotte is awake the whole time, taking in the ride from her car seat. We pull into the driveway and there are several pink balloons tied to the porch railing, along with a Welcome Baby Charlotte sign that I'm sure Lindsey had made.

Catherine opened the door and with several quick steps, she was at the car opening the door and helping gather things to take inside. Gil helped me out and I manage to unbuckle Charlotte from the car seat and carry her into the house.

"Eat first, while it's still warm - look at the nursery after lunch." Catherine instructs when we are barely through the door.

Catherine gently gathers Charlotte from my arms and I take a seat. I wonder if I look as at ease with Charlotte as Catherine does - she's quietly talking to her and Charlotte is fighting to keep her eyes open.

I'm so caught up in watching Charlotte, that I don't realize Gil has placed a bowl of veggie chili in front of me until he nudged my arm, handing me a piece of cornbread. The food is delicious and I make a mental note to ask Catherine for the chili recipe.

I walk toward the stairway to the nursery with Gil behind me, Catherine, Greg, and Nick - who is now carrying Charlotte are following close behind. Just as I arrive at the top of the steps, Lindsey comes out of the nursery looking a bit apprehensive.

Two steps later and I am standing speechless and on the verge of tears, as I look into the nursery. The walls above the wainscoting have been painted a beautiful lilac. Framed butterflies in pastel colors adorn one wall, hung from delicate ribbons. An antique rocker is in the corner, a small bookcase beside it - already filled with favorite childhood books. The crib bedding looks perfect, something I had looked at many times, but hadn't bought - and my second thoughts about indulging in the expensive butterfly mobile is gone when I see it hanging above the crib. There are blankets in every girly color folded neatly on the end of the changing table. A small trunk with it's lid open is filled with diapers, wipes and an assortment of other baby needs. Catherine steps into the room and opens the closet door, revealing enough baby clothes to rival a department store. Sure, we had bought some of the clothes and things, but Catherine and Lindsey had obviously spent a lot of time shopping.

"Catherine, Lindsey - it's beautiful! I can't thank you enough! This is perfect!" I say, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Before I can say anything else, Nick is passing me Charlotte -

"Sara, you might want to make use of that changing table. I've been in some pretty disgusting decomp assignments, but this diaper might top them!"

We all share a laugh and I get everything situated on the changing table and quickly begin changing the offensive diaper. Charlotte is a little startled by the cold wipe, but doesn't cry until the diaper change is over - before I can manage to redress her. Glancing down at my watch, I realize it's been a while since she has eaten. Gil is able to read my mind, and asks if everyone could go downstairs to give me some time to nurse.

Catherine ushers everyone except Gil out the door and down the stairs. Gil is turning on a small lamp and the bright overhead light off as I pass Charlotte off to him and settle into the rocking chair. Charlotte, now beginning to wail at the top of her newborn lungs, is quickly handed to me and I snuggle her against my breast. After a few minutes, she latches on and we are rewarded when the sweet, rhythmic suckling is the only sound left in the room.

"The rocking chair you are sitting in - it belonged to my mother. She bought it before I was born. I had it refinished years ago and had planned to put it in my study, but that never panned out. It had been in storage for years. It looks like we found a perfect place for it."

He watches me as I situate Charlotte on the opposite side. Once she snuggles against me, I begin rocking - singing a old favorite softly. I gently rub her back, letting my fingers dance on her impossibly soft skin. I continue rocking long after she is finished, slack jawed and asleep - just content to feel her even breathing on my bare skin. Gil had moved into the room, leaning against the crib watching this private interaction.

He leans in, kissing Charlotte on the forehead before helping me stand from the rocking chair.

I gently lay her in the crib, she stirs a little but doesn't wake. We stand there at the crib, his arms wrapped around me, in awe of our sleeping baby. We make our way toward the door, turning on the baby monitor on the way out before pulling the door almost closed.

We find everyone downstairs gathered in the family room, making plans for the next couple of days. Catherine and Lindsey wanted to go shopping, as usual. Nick and Greg wanted to go hiking in the nearby Smoky Mountains. And everyone was practically begging Gil to make his homemade pizza for dinner.

"Okay, I'll make pizza - but not tonight. I'll have to go get everything - you all are on your own for dinner tonight."

Catherine suggests that Gil should make a list of things from the grocery store and everyone can go with her to pick things up, leaving Gil and I here for a while - some private time, she suggests.

Gil manages to make a list of things that he will need for pizza, along with some other things - making a list long enough to keep them busy and out of the house for a while. The boys are scrambling off the couch, trying to be the driver, but thankfully Catherine has the keys. They both groan as she holds up the keys.

"Not a chance, boys."

Our house is back to the comfortable silence when they leave. Gil locks the door, walking back to where I'm sitting - offering his hand to me. I take it, rising off the recliner and following him down the hall and up the stairs. We stop at the doorway to the nursery, quietly walking to the edge of the crib and peeking at a sleeping Charlotte.

We leave the nursery in silence, and make the short journey to our bedroom. I lie on the bed, realizing that I'm more tired than I would like to admit. Gil toes off his shoes and sits on the bed beside me. He places his hand on the slight swell of my stomach, touching ever so lightly. He begins massaging my arms and shoulders, working his way up to the nape of my neck.

"Come sit here - " he says, patting between his legs.

I sit up, climbing over his outstretched legs and sit with my back against his chest. He continues rubbing my arms, arching me forward before massaging my back. The movement of his fingers causes me to give into my need for sleep. I find myself rolling onto the bed, reaching for my pillow and curling into Gil's body.


	6. Chapter 6

Gil and I were sitting in the family room when the group came back from a long trip to the grocery store. And from the looks of all the bags - there might not be much left. There were at least four bags of nothing but fresh produce.

"I'm so jealous that there is a Farmer's Market just around the corner from here." Lindsey explains.

I begin teasing that she could always transfer from UCLA to the University of Tennessee. Then we could have a built-in baby sitter, I joke. And for a moment, she looks like she's considering it -although she doesn't say anything at all.

Catherine and Lindsey are unpacking groceries, but I can't seem to find Greg or Nick. I remember seeing them come in, arms full of bags. Maybe they went back to the car - they can't be too far from the kitchen.

Gil helps me off the couch, more out of habit than need now and we walk to the kitchen to begin putting away the bounty that now fills the table and counters.

I'm putting an assortment of fresh cheese into the refrigerator when I hear a tiny cry on the baby monitor, followed by voices. For a moment, my heart is in my throat - but the voice quickly becomes familiar. I carry the monitor receiver to where Gil is standing and we both listen quietly. Catherine leans in, listening as well.

"Shhhh little Charlotte, it's okay. Your favorite uncle is here."

The tiny cry has become almost silent, and I hear the creak of the rocker as someone sits down in it and begins rocking.

"You sure are a tiny little thing. And you look just like your momma, one day you'll be even more beautiful than you are now. And you'll break boys hearts. But that's good - there won't be one that deserves you. You're a very lucky little girl - you have the best parents anyone could wish for. They're both so smart - I'm sure you're a genius already."

"Ok Greg - enough hogging her already."

There's a short silence and then a different voice quietly begins cooing to Charlotte.

"Favorite uncle - don't let him fool you, beautiful. I'll be your favorite uncle. The fun one that sneaks you candy even when your parents say you can't have any. And the one that has a shotgun ready for those boys that will come knocking. I'm sure your Daddy will take care of them though. I wonder if you know how many people love you already."

The quiet conversations that these boys are having with our newborn daughter is sincere and sweet. I doubt if they would be speaking so openly if they knew we were listening. I set the monitor down on the counter and go back to putting things away.

Some time goes by before the boys come downstairs. We don't mention that we've heard anything and they don't reveal their whereabouts for the last little bit. After everything is put away, we all congregate outside on the sun porch. Gil and I snuggle into a double rocker and listen to everyone's plans for their last couple of days here.

I excuse myself to go check on Charlotte, knowing it's been a couple of hours since her last feed. She's awake and putting her tiny fist into her mouth when I reach into the crib for her. I situate her against me and we begin to rock. I finger her tiny chin to persuade her to latch on and she finally does after several unsuccessful attempts. In several days, this will all become easier - hopefully - when I have an (somewhat) endless supply.

After we are finished, I change her diaper and we go downstairs. Gil is working in the kitchen with Lindsey looking on. He's working on a "secret" marinade for chicken for everyone, except the two of us.

Nick takes over on the grill, watching the chicken and Gil watches the eggplant and pineapple polenta.

Gil carries Charlotte around and she is very content to be embraced by his strong arms. She falls asleep, her face nuzzled against his neck.

Dinner is fairly quiet, due in part because Charlotte is still sleeping. Gil manages to eat with one hand, holding her close to him with the other. The boys have made plans for a hike tomorrow while Catherine and Lindsey are going shopping. Gil and I will have the house to ourselves, to do whatever we please. Not that I don't enjoy the company - I do, and I am very grateful to have them here while we adjust to having a newborn in the house, but secretly I'm looking forward to Wednesday when it's just the three of us.

Greg cleans the dishes from the table, placing them in the dishwasher before informing us all that since he and Nick have an early hike, he's going to get settled in upstairs Nick isn't far behind. Catherine settles onto the couch to watch an old movie and Lindsey heads upstairs to talk with the boys for a while.

Gil and I manage to give Charlotte a quick sponge bath and change her into a clean onesie for bed. We take turns rocking her, until her eyes begin to close. She's settled in the crib for the next several hours and Gil and I turn in for the night as well.

I'm awake within four hours, hearing the first hungry whine. While we sit in the rocker, I quietly laugh at the reality of "mother's intuition" that I had been told about. I debate about putting her back into the crib, since there are guests sleeping in the next room. Creeping back into the bedroom, I lay her down in the middle of the bed, climbing in and wrapping one arm around her small body. Gil stirs a little, raising his head and seeing Charlotte, he scoots over a bit. Soon, she is asleep and I can close my eyes and return to a somewhat peaceful slumber.

I'm awake just one more time before we get up for the day. Gil starts making breakfast, finding a frozen quiche and whipping up homemade French toast. I've showered and dressed and now am sitting at the breakfast bar looking through the paper until I find the crossword. We make quick work of it and move onto the word jumble, which is less of a challenge than the crossword. Just as we are finishing, everyone else is making their way to the kitchen, still clad in pajamas.

We all gather around the table, enjoying breakfast and each other, talking about the day's plans. After everyone is done, Gil and I linger in the kitchen while everyone else is getting dressed and gathering things for the day. I remind the boys to be careful on their hike, which makes them both laugh and joke before answering with "Yes, Mom." Catherine and Lindsey have planned an entire day to do nothing but shop, and invite me along. I thank them for the invitation, but pass - definitely not one of my favorite ways to spend a day and I'm still a little tired.

The house is still after everyone leaves, a welcome calm. Gil and I snuggle into the couch, satisfied watching old movies for the rest of the morning. Before lunch, we tiptoe upstairs and find Charlotte awake, eyes wide in wonder. Gil lifts her out of the crib and carries her downstairs, with me following close behind. We manage to eat lunch while taking turns holding her, not wanting to put her down for a moment.

After lunch, we set up the stroller and took a walk around the neighborhood.

We walked to the end of the cul de sac, taking time to watch as two squirrels chased each other up a tall oak tree and across the branches of another. A little neighbor boy said hello to us as we passed causing me to remark at the cute twang of his accent and Gil reminds me that if we stay here long enough, Charlotte will sound like that, too. Just as we are walking back through the front door, Gil's phone rings and Charlotte begins to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the delay - I had a horrible kidney stone and then my computer died. Hoping to get back to regularly updating this story. Please read and review!

Gil opens the door, as I'm trying my best to cradle Charlotte, who is becoming louder in her displeasure. I manage to walk through the door and settle into the recliner, rocking and quietly singing. Gil is standing behind us, listening more than talking to someone on the other end.

Charlotte's wails are becoming louder and I decide to head towards the nursery - partly to check about a dirty diaper, partly to give Gil a little more peace while he was on the phone. After carefully removing a onesie, I can guess why Charlotte is so upset. I'd be upset if I had a wet diaper against my baby soft bum.

Gil and I have several hours alone before the gang comes back from their respective adventures. Together, we got Charlotte settled in her crib before we padded down the hall and curled up on top of the covers. I settled in between his stretched out legs, my head laying on his stomach. His arms wrapped around me and once in a while, he would absent-mindedly stroke my back or head.

He told me about the interim professor calling, offering to meet him and pick up the syllabus for the rest of the semester. He was fairly confident that he would take him up on the offer. Anything to spend more time with us. And sometime during the conversation, my eyes became so heavy I couldn't keep them open and I decided to give into the darkness that came quickly.

I woke to the smell of dough and realized that Gil must have slipped out of the bedroom and started making pizza dough for dinner. I stretched out of the bed, walking into the nursery only to discover Charlotte wasn't in her crib.

As I'm walking downstairs, I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. Gil is at the island cutting up different vegetables for pizza toppings, as the boys are teasing Lindsey about some picture she had posted online.

Catherine is quietly talking to Charlotte as she walks around the kitchen and dining room.

I sidle up to Gil, gently placing a kiss on his cheek - turning to him as he deepens the kiss, ever so slightly. Everyone laughs when a playful swat across Gil's behind causes him to drop the green pepper.

Greg manages to get some snuggle time in with Charlotte before she begins to get fussy - it's dinnertime for her. He hands her to me and I make my way up the stairs - noticing a second set of footsteps on the stairs behind me. Too quiet to be any of the boys - I reach the top stair and look over my shoulder to see Catherine.

"Do you mind if I - we…"

I could count on one hand how many times I had seen Catherine Willows speechless. And she was - stumbling over words asking if we could talk, while I nursed.

"Cath, it's fine. I'm definitely a lot less modest than I used to be. And - well, you're a mother. You know how the body works." I smile, and she follows me into the nursery.

I turn the small lamp on, casting a dim glow around the room. I settle into the rocker, taking a few minutes to sit and rock as Catherine takes a seat on top of the trunk. I laugh to myself, thinking I'm becoming quite adept at unbuttoning my shirts with one hand while cradling Charlotte in the other.

"So how long before I'm a milk machine?" I ask, causing us both to giggle.

"24 hours - 48 at the most. You won't believe the difference. And Grissom won't either…."

I nod and turn my attention back to Charlotte. The room is quiet as we settle into our steady rhythm. Catherine breaks the silence -

"Sara, Lindsey is really thinking about transferring out here next year. It's all she talked about while we were shopping today. I know she's old enough to make her own decisions, and it's not my place to try and talk her out of it. But, if she does - will you try and keep an eye on her? I know she's a good kid. I just worry - I know all about those college boys."

I smile - "Of course, Catherine. If she needs a place to stay and check out the school or anything - she's more than welcome to stay here. You can come and visit. I'm sure everything will work out."

" I know, Sara. She's my baby - only she's all grown up."

Catherine stands up and whispers that she's going to 'freshen up' before dinner. As she's walking past, I can see the shimmer of fresh tears on her cheeks.

I continue rocking with Charlotte, who's eyelids are beginning to droop and her suckling has become intermittent. When I'm sure she's asleep, I carefully place her into the crib and redress myself before heading downstairs.

Gil has pizzas in the brick oven and the smell greets me at the top of the stairwell. I'm looking forward to eating his homemade 'specialty' - I wasn't able to stomach it while I was pregnant. The smell of dough sent me running to the bathroom. So for the first time in eight or so months, I'm going to indulge in pizza.

As I enter the kitchen, Gil is removing the pizzas and placing them on large flat pizza stones. The boys, Greg and Nick, have topped their pizza with pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon and lots of cheese. Lindsey has settled on chicken, mushrooms and tomatoes - all strategically placed, a bite of each on every slice. Gil has piled our pizza with every vegetable he could find. Spinach, onions, tomatoes, peppers in three varieties, mushrooms, olives…and lots of cheese. It looks absolutely delicious.

The six of us settle around the table - our plates filled with piping hot pizza, about as authentic as anything from New York City or even Chicago. Our conversations are dotted with laughter, appreciative sighs of delight for the pizza and promises of frequent phone calls, email updates, pictures and visits.

We spend the rest of the evening together - even playing another round or two of poker before a contagious round of yawns causes us to get ready for bed. I'm heading up the stairs while Gil is turning off lights, locking doors and setting the alarm system. Stopping to check on Charlotte, I'm pleased to find her still sleeping - her chest rising and falling in measured breaths. Gil wanders into the nursery, wrapping his arms around me.

"She's perfect. And so is her mother." - his lips trailing soft kisses down the nape of my neck.

Hand in hand, we walk into the bedroom, changing into pajamas and crawling under the soft blankets.

"I've enjoyed having the gang here. But I admit - I'll be able to rest a little easier when it's just us. When we can get into a little routine. Just the three of us." Gil chatters.

I nod in agreement, snuggling closer to him and allowing my eyes to close. Not many minutes pass before sleep is blanketing the both of us in her dark warmth.


	8. Chapter 8

The early morning sun streams through the white gossamer curtains and my first instinct is to snuggle closer to Gil. His arms gather me nearer to him and he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"I guess we should get up and get breakfast on before everyone leaves." he says quietly.

I stretch, watching as he easily slides out of the bed - turning his head and giving me a sly smirk over his bare shoulder. I shake my head, returning the grin -

"We won't have any house guests after today, Mr. Grissom."

And although I know that love making will have to wait, I do know that there are plenty of other ways to garner mutual pleasure - and we are well versed in several.

Gil has stopped in the nursery and is coddling Charlotte, whispering to her as she blinks her eyes open. I stand in the doorway, watching this exchange and after several minutes settle into the rocker. Her tiny tongue flits out - seeking, searching for the familiarity of my breast - but finds Gil's neck instead. This does not amuse her in the least. Her lips turn into a pout - but before she can protest, he is placing her in the crook of my arm and she instinctively turns her face against me, rooting.

Gil heads downstairs to begin breakfast, hoping to have the spread complete before the house guests wake. I'm content to rock, smiling as Charlotte takes my finger in her hand, grasping it. Her fingers are long and delicate, slender like mine. Maybe one day, she'll take piano lessons - like I had always wanted to do.

After she has finished, I change the first offensive diaper of the day and begin dressing her in one of the many sleepers hanging in the closet.

We quietly pad downstairs, I place Charlotte in the small travel bassinet that is set up in the living room. Gil is almost done cooking breakfast when Greg enters the kitchen with Lindsey not following far behind.

"Are the others awake?" Gil asks.

Lindsey shakes her head and Greg shrugs his shoulders. Both looking a little like the cat that got the canary. I'm tempted to ask if anything went on, but decide that if it did - I don't need to know the morning after.

Catherine comes into the kitchen, looking well rested just minutes before a sleepy eyed Nick slips into a chair at the table. Gil places several plates on the table - biscuits, bacon and sausage, eggs, fresh fruit and still warm blueberry streusel muffins. Before he sits down at the table, he places a vegetarian potato and green onion frittata at our end of the table.

Once breakfast is over, the rest of the morning is spent saying goodbyes and loading bags into the trunk of Catherine's rental. After a round of hugs and friendly kisses on the cheek - the four guests pile into the Tahoe, waving as they turn onto the next street.

Leaning against the porch railing, a warmth flooded over my body as Gil wrapped his arms around my waist. His head, resting on my shoulder provides the perfect position for him to whisper in my ear. Without much coaxing, we are back in the house, checking on Charlotte who is sleeping peacefully in the bassinet, before tumbling onto the couch.

My back against his chest, his arms draped over my shoulders leaving his hands to rest on my still swollen stomach - my contented sigh was audible and he agreed with his own. I guess we were more tired than I wanted to imagine - we both were asleep within minutes of settling in on the couch. And if Charlotte hadn't woke with a piercing cry, I'm sure we would probably still be sleeping. So Gil is changing a diaper while I watch, still trying to wake up from maybe the best sleep I've had in days.

I slide my legs to the edge of the couch, watching as Gil babbles to Charlotte, whose tear stained face is being peppered with light kisses from her adoring Dad. And the tenderness of the moment causes silent tears to trickle down my own face.

My mind wanders back to the months before Charlotte's conception - when I had been told that I would almost certainly never conceive a child, even with the help of the most extreme fertility treatments, and at no fault of my own. I had never wanted to be a mother, didn't think that I had any desire to bring a child into this world that is full of horrors that I had seen and lived through. But falling in love with Gil had awakened a yearning for a baby - a physical display of loving this man. And I guess I thought that wanting to have a baby would equal getting pregnant without really trying - well trying, but -

Gil was determined that we would have a child, no matter what it took. He sought out the most highly recommended fertility specialists, read any information that he could find. We visited three doctors across the United States and left each one feeling more defeated than before. We cried on the airplane on the way home. Once we were home, we looked into adoption, here and abroad - and felt that this was the way we were going to begin a family.

It's funny how life works though - the morning that we were scheduled for our home study I became violently ill. Unable to even stay upright long enough to walk to the bathroom, I collapsed in a clammy heap on the cold tile floor. Gil called the social worker, explaining that I had some sort of stomach virus and could we reschedule. I was sick like this for three days - and on the third day, Gil insisted that I go to the hospital.

Imagine our surprise when after every test came back, the diagnosis was pregnancy - almost 7 weeks. I was admitted for the night for observation and to make sure that I didn't become dehydrated. We were beyond thrilled, elated - but that excitement was tempered with fear of the unknown. I couldn't sleep in the unfamiliar hospital room, so Gil and I talked almost the entire night.

"Sara, do you remember that night - one of our last nights in Costa Rica, a violent storm rolled through and we weren't able to sleep?" he asked, the corners of his lips smiling in remembrance.

I nod. I remember the deafening claps of thunder echoing through the camp, Gil and I curled up in our makeshift 'king' bed. I remember his touches, innocent at first - trying to settle the anxiety that I now felt when it stormed, becoming more and more intimate. I recall the way that my body molded underneath his, my hands pulling him closer until we are almost one - and then the way that he enters me, causing my breath to hitch. I remember the way we moved as one, riding out the waves and billows of ecstasy.

"I do, Gil." I whisper. I know what he's saying, even before he says it.

"We created a miracle that night."

And before I can contemplate any more of those fateful months, the phone rings bringing me back to reality as Gil places Charlotte in my arms and answers the phone.

I quickly realize that it's Catherine letting us know that they have reached the gate and are boarding for the flight back to Las Vegas. After hanging up the phone, Gil spreads a quilt onto the floor and we lie down, Charlotte in between us and turn on the television to a classic movie channel. All afternoon, we watch old movies, reciting lines from the more familiar ones. Charlotte is sleeping soundly enough that she doesn't even whimper when she is placed in her crib. Gil and I find sanctuary in the small reading room, sitting alongside each other reading for hours in comfortable silence.


End file.
